Power Made Perfect

If you have a Bible—and if you don’t, you shouldn’t be here—I invite you to turn to 2 Corinthians and to chapter 12.

And as you’re turning there, a sincere thanks for the opportunity to come to this particular church to meet with you folks. I know of you from afar, but I haven’t met many of you up close. And I’ve been delighted at the prospect of being able to come, and now I’m here. I’m not here to tell you things that you don’t know. I’m here that we might be reminded of things that we mustn’t ever forget. And in doing so, we turn to the Scriptures.

Let me just read from the opening part of 2 Corinthians 12. And Paul says,

“I must go on boasting.” He’s speaking ironically here, as you know. “Though there is nothing to be gained by it, I will go on to visions and revelations of the Lord. I know a man in Christ who fourteen years ago was caught up to the third heaven—whether in the body or out of the body I do not know, God knows. And I know that this man was caught up into paradise—whether in the body or out of the body I do not know, God knows—and he heard things that cannot be told, which man may not utter. On behalf of this man I will boast, but on my own behalf I will not boast, except of my weaknesses—though if I should wish to boast, I would not be a fool, for I would be speaking the truth; but I refrain from it, so that no one may think more of me than he sees in me or hears from me. So to keep me from becoming conceited because of the surpassing greatness of the revelations, a thorn was given me in the flesh, a messenger of Satan to harass me, to keep me from becoming conceited. Three times I pleaded with the Lord about this, that it should leave me. But he said to me, ‘My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.’ Therefore I will boast all the more gladly of my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may rest upon me. For the sake of Christ, then, I am content with weaknesses, insults, hardships, persecutions, and calamities. For when I am weak, then I am strong.”

A brief prayer together:

Father, we humbly ask that you will “take your truth, plant it deep in us; shape and fashion us in your likeness.”[1] And we ask it in Christ’s name. Amen.

Well, our destination this morning in this first talk is to get to that phrase there: The grace of the Lord Jesus Christ “is sufficient for you”—“He said to me, ‘My grace is sufficient for you.’” But before we get there, I want to go on a little bit of a detour.

On Tuesday this week, which I take as a day off—unless this is Tuesday (no, it’s not; this is Thursday now; yeah, that’s okay)—we went to vote early, Sue and I. So we googled where you have to go to the election place, and then it comes up on your phone. You can go the fastest route. You can go the medium route. You can go the old people’s route. And being old people, we decided on the old people’s route. So it took more minutes, and it added more miles, but it increased the sense of anticipation for the final position, and it also allowed us to see beautiful things along the way.

I say all of that because I want to, if you like—to choose another metaphor—I want to waggle the club on the tee a little bit before I hit the ball. And so, I hope you will be patient with me as I do so. I want to… You don’t need to turn to all these passages, but I’m going to tell you where I’m starting from. And, right, I’ve told you our destination is “My grace is sufficient for you.” Now, this is Paul, you remember, writing to the Romans in chapter 12. And in verse 3 he says, “For by the grace given to me I say to everyone among you not to think of himself more highly than he ought to think.” And then he goes on to say we should “think with sober judgment, each according to the measure of faith that God has assigned.” In verse 6: “Having gifts that differ according to the grace given to us, let us [then] use them.” And then he goes on to speak about them.

So that is Paul’s exhortation as he writes to these people in Rome, as he has laid down the foundations—the doctrinal foundations—and here in chapter 12, he begins to make application of all of this. So you read that, and you say, “Well, I understand the exhortation. And how does that work for you, Paul? You’re writing to us. What about the application to yourself?”

Well, 1 Corinthians 4:6:

I have applied all these things to myself and Apollos for your benefit … that you may learn by us not to go beyond what is written, that none of you may be puffed up in favor of one against another. For who sees anything different in you? What do you have that you did not receive? If then you received it, why do you boast as [though] you did[n’t] receive it?

I mean, it’s insanity. It’s ridiculous. “What do you have that you did[n’t] receive?” The synovial fluid in our joints has allowed us to bend and stand today. We’ve got no control over it at all. We could awaken to a new day, and our eyes never opened, apart from the providence of God. It’s so profoundly straightforward.

And then you go forward to 1 Corinthians 15. We’re still on the detour; don’t get alarmed. First Corinthians 15:9 (and in my new Bible, which I was just given, I can’t find verse 9):

I[’m] the least of the apostles, unworthy to be called an apostle, because I persecuted the church of God. But by the grace of God I am what I am, and his grace toward me was not in vain. On the contrary, I worked harder than any of them, though it was not I, but the grace of God that is with me. Whether then it was I or they, so we preach and so you believed.

And then, finally, in 1 Timothy and in chapter 1. You’ll be familiar with this, where I’m going with this. In 1 Timothy 1:12:

I thank him who has given me strength, Christ Jesus our Lord, because he judged me faithful, appointing me to his service, though formerly I was a blasphemer, persecutor, and insolent opponent. But I received mercy because I had acted ignorantly in unbelief, and the grace of our Lord overflowed for me with the faith and love that are in Christ Jesus.

Now, I don’t know if “overflowing grace” was one of the adjectives. In fact, I was intrigued when I saw all these adjectives in front of the word “grace.” It takes a very fertile mind to come up with them, and it’s usually a very difficult thing to preach at, because you’re not sure if your adjective has already been handled by the person with the previous adjective or whether the fellow that comes after you will impinge upon your adjective. And frankly, I’m not a big fan of one word with multiple adjectives. And you say, “Well, that’s not very nice, ’cause we brought you here. Now you’re saying unkind things about our deal.” I’m just telling you. And maybe that’s why I’m sort of making up my own plan as I go along.

The Purpose of Paul’s Boasting

Our destination is “My grace is sufficient for you.” But there’s a lot of stuff that precedes this, as you know. There’s a lot of boasting going on in the chapters that precede chapter 12—a lot of boasting. And in addressing these proud assertions that are being made by the false teachers, who are opposing Paul and his colleagues, he does so with irony. Actually, I think we would have to say he does so with a measure of sarcasm. And he does so by turning the tables on them. And he says, “What I’m going to do, since you folks all like to boast, I’m going to boast”—11:30—“I will boast of the things that show my weakness.” And at the end of chapter 12, he acknowledges the fact that there are many things that give him the opportunity to show himself for what he’s really like. Verse 10 of 12: “weaknesses, insults, hardships, persecutions, and calamities”—and, at the very heart of it, a severe limitation, which, of course, we come to later on.

Now, let me just pause there for a moment and ask you a question. I wonder: Have you ever considered the possibility that your handicaps and that your limitations may prove to be the key to your usefulness in gospel ministry—the things, when you look around at other people or you read history or you look forward, and you are honest enough in identifying these things? It’s possible, isn’t it?

Now, the context is always very—it needs to be done, doesn’t it? Because otherwise, there are certain little phrases and verses that become, like, “shaving-mirror verses”—like, you know, “My grace is sufficient for you.” You put that up in the morning when you come in, and you go, “Oh, I thought this was my father in the mirror. No, no, it’s you.” And then you say, “But my grace is sufficient for you.” Well, that’s good. But where does this all fall?

Well, it falls in this context of Paul and his companions, who are on the receiving end of accusations and insinuations. And the only way we can really understand what these accusations and insinuations were is to look at the text and by inference from the text. So what were they? Well, chapter 10; look at verse 1: “For I do not want … to be unaware, brothers, that our fathers were all under the cloud…” And that’s—that’s 1 Corinthians. You don’t need that. Excuse me. But no, you didn’t notice, ’cause you didn’t turn it up. You’re sensible people. Keep your Bible open! “I, Paul, myself entreat you, by the meekness and gentleness of Christ—I who am humble when face to face with you, but bold toward you when I am away!”[2] What were they accusing him of? They said, “He’s a coward. He’s a coward. He’s good at writing, but if you see him face up, he’s no good.” In verse 2, they were accusing him of being worldly and unspiritual. You can see that as you read on.

And back down in verse 7: “Look at what is before your eyes. If anyone is confident that he is Christ’s, let him remind himself that just as he is Christ’s, so also are we.” In other words, they were saying, “You folks are suspect members of the body of Christ. You are”—verse 12—“regarded as second-class citizens of Christ”: “Not that we dare to classify or compare ourselves with some of those who are commending themselves. But when they measure themselves by one another and compare themselves with one another, they are without understanding.” What he’s saying is this: that his detractors were comparing themselves with one another. They were writing their own resumes, and they were essentially providing their own references. They were grading their own papers. They were establishing their own credentials.

What you and I say about ourselves means nothing in God’s work. It’s what God says about us that makes the difference.

And the contrast between that and what Paul is saying is so significant—10:15: “We do not boast beyond limit in the labors of others. But our hope is that … your faith increases, our area of influence among you,” that it “may be greatly enlarged.” Why? To what end? “So that we may preach the gospel in lands beyond you, without boasting of work already done in another’s area of influence.” I mean, it’s really very straightforward. “My great concern,” says Paul, “is the increase of your faith—that it would be so influential that in regions beyond where we are now, this would be going ahead.”

And then, at the end of chapter 10, in… Well, 17, of course, is crucial: “Let the one who boasts, boast in the Lord.” And then he capstones it wonderfully when he says, “For it[’s] not the one who commends himself who is approved, but the one whom the Lord commends.” Listen: What you and I say about ourself means nothing in God’s work. It’s what God says about us that makes the difference. That’s what Paul is saying there: “It[’s] not the one who commends himself who[’s] approved.” When he writes to Timothy, 2 Timothy—“Study to shew [your]self approved unto God”[3]—that’s the key.

Now, the reason that we need to make sure we’re very straightforward about this is because we need to keep in mind the temptation that each of us has to be tempted to rely too much on what others have to say about us. Looking around for approbation—that’s not irrelevant, but it’s not foundational either. And it’s very, very good of God to alert us to this in the Scriptures, not just here but actually throughout the Scriptures. Every pastor needs a wife, if for no other reason than to keep him humble, so that when you come home with your gargantuan cranium on the top of a toothpick, and you can’t get in your bedroom door, your wife needs to pierce—pierce—the great pomposity with which you have arrived home so that your head might fit on the pillow. And God is so concerned about this that he will use all kinds of things in order to make us understand that what Paul says is the only thing any of us can ultimately say: “I am what I am by the grace of God.”[4] That doesn’t make me indolent. It makes me active—active in the gospel.

Years ago in Wales, at a conference for the Fellowship of Independent Evangelical Churches, I had a morning much like this. I had two addresses to give, so you give one address, and then you go in the bathroom, and then you come out and give the second one. Well, I was in the bathroom, and I was washing my hands, and a fellow at the next wash hand basin expressed his thanks to me for the first address that I’d given. He had, he said, been greatly helped. And before I could say thank you, he went on to say, “However, I came with a group of friends, and they did not share my view, and I’m having a hard time convincing them to stay.” Now, which do you think was the best part of that: the encouragement at the start or the piercing of the bubble immediately? How good the grace of God is!

And that’s why in chapter 11—we haven’t reached chapter 12 yet—that’s why in chapter 11, Paul is tackling his opponents on their own terms. Verse 1: “I wish you would bear with me in a little foolishness. Do bear with me!” Down in 16, he’s reinforcing this: “I repeat, let no one think me foolish. But even if you do, accept me as a fool, so that I too may boast a little.” Peterson’s paraphrase concerning that is very, very straightforward. He says, “I didn’t learn this kind of talk from Christ. Oh, no, it’s [something] I picked up from the three-ring preachers that are so popular these days.”[5] In other words, “I’m going to come over to your side of the fence, just so you can get a flavor of what it’s like.”

Now, what were they boasting about? You can see it in the text. In verse 22, they were boasting about their Jewishness: “Are they Hebrews?” “We’re the Hebrews. We’re the real group.” You get that in churches as well. They’re not saying, “We’re the Hebrews.” “We’re the evangelicals,” or “We’re the whatevers,” whatever adjective you would like—or noun, for that matter. “Are they Hebrews?” He says, “[Well,] so am I. Are they Israelites? So am I. Are they offspring of Abraham? So am I. Are they servants of Christ? I[’m] a better one.” And then he says, “I[’m] talking like a madman—with far greater labors, far more imprisonments, … countless beatings, … often near death.” And then he goes on down through that litany. They’re boasting about their Jewishness. They’re boasting about their service for the gospel, for religion. And so he walks down the road, and he arrives at the same place as before: “If I must boast”—verse 30—“I will boast of the things that show my weakness.”

“I will not boast in anything, no gifts, no power, no wisdom,” Townend writes it, “but I will boast in Jesus Christ, his death and resurrection”[6]—so that all that draws attention to ourselves, to our achievements, to our attainments, to whatever you want appeals on a certain front, but it has no real bank in the bank of heaven. And that is why Paul goes on, then, in this chapter to take us to his destination and to make us absolutely clear that he means what he says when he exhorts others on this very front, so that they might be assured of the same grace that underpins him.

When you think about it, actually, at the end of verse 32—at the end of 11 going into 12 (and there’s no chapter break; you’ll remember that, right?), he says, “If I must boast, I will boast of the things that show my weakness.” He says, “Well, let me give you an illustration of this.” “At Damascus, the governor under King Aretas was guarding the city of Damascus in order to seize me”[7]—“but they sent a group of cavalry, soldiers, and a large band to march me out of the place.” Now, you’d better have your Bibles open, ’cause you’re saying, “I never saw that before.” That’s right! Because it’s not there. No: “But I was let down in a basket through a window in the wall and escaped his hands.”[8] So, “We have the preacher here, the apostle Paul. He’s come to us. He was dropped off—actually, dropped off literally, down through a wall in a basket. And here he is.”

Similar to his arrival in Corinth: “I didn’t come to you to show you how good I am with rhetoric. I didn’t come to let you know my skill. In fact, when I was with you,” he says, “I came to you in weakness and in fear and in much trembling.”[9] Well, that’s a crazy way to show up, is it not? Well, it is if you want people to be impressed with you. But you won’t be able to impress with the grace of God that picks up this fellow. I mean, if we’d met him from the donkey station or wherever it was, we wouldn’t have been impressed. When we shook his hand, it might have been even a little slimy from whatever—from anxiety. But that’s how he represents himself. Why? Because he understood the Bible. He understood Isaiah 66:2b. He understood that God meant it when he said, “This is the one to whom I will look [says the Lord]: he who is humble and contrite in spirit and trembles at my word.”

But he hasn’t even finished yet with the boastings. Because he goes on in chapter 12 to say, “I must go on boasting. I know there’s nothing to be gained by it.” And then he says—listen to this! Another area of challenge from his detractors was in the realm of spiritual experience: “What kind of spiritual experiences have you had?” “Well, I’ve had this. I’ve had that.” And so he says—if there is one area in which Paul could have trumped them all by playing the ace, this is it right here. Because Paul had had an experience, an amazing encounter, that, in human terms, secured for him bragging rights par excellence. But, he says, “I refrain from [this].” “I refrain from [this].” Verse 6: “Though if I should wish to boast, I would[n’t] be a fool, for I[’d] be speaking the truth; but I refrain from it”—again, notice—“so that no one may think more of me than he sees in me or hears from me.”

Of all the contexts in which boasting is inappropriate, this surely heads the list: to boast of a genuine experience of God. Because any genuine experience of God is his gift to us. We didn’t attain it; we enjoyed it. He provides us the basis for our dependence, but the gift provides us with no basis for our self-elevation. And the danger of spiritual narcissism is real. And to engage in it is to reveal that I have actually lost sight of Jesus and his cross, and whatever I want to apply for my adjective in front of “grace,” I’ve actually lost sight of that as well. Because what has happened is a bigger picture has framed up in my thinking, and it’s a picture of myself.

The Purpose of Paul’s Thorn

“So”—verse 7—“to keep me from becoming conceited”—(“to keep me from getting a big head”)—“because of the surpassing greatness of the revelations, a thorn was given me in the flesh, a messenger of Satan to harass me, to keep me from becoming conceited.” So a sovereign God applies the work of the archenemy of the gospel to achieve the very purpose that he desires in the life of this man in order to make him increasingly useful, so that he might be left in absolutely no doubt about the fact that all that he is, all that he has, all that he does is a manifestation of the overflowing grace of God in his life. Again, Peterson: “Because of the extravagance of [these] revelations, and so I wouldn’t get a big head, I was given the gift of a handicap to keep me in … touch with my limitations.”[10]

The danger of spiritual narcissism is real. And to engage in it is to reveal that I have actually lost sight of Jesus and his cross.

Let me come back to the question: Have you ever considered the possibility that what you regard as the limitation, as the thing that is detrimental to your “real usefulness,” may be, actually, the very thing that God purposes to use in order to make you far more useful than you ever thought you could possibly be? Because it seems to me that there’s a measure of that here.

“A thorn.” I take it that this thorn is physical, that it was a source of regular and intense discomfort. For those of you who want a PhD on that, go do it on your own terms. It’s not my purpose to unpack the nature of the thorn. I’m sure there’s a commentary somewhere you can read for the rest of the afternoon. What we do know about it is, whatever way, it was “a messenger of Satan.” “A messenger of Satan.” Now, that phrase is an interesting phrase. What can that possibly mean?

Well, in my experience, the Evil One—and this is basically C. S. Lewis’s Screwtape. [Cell phone buzzes.] (Yeah. Thank you. That’s 888 down there, just calling now for me.) You know, where at one point Screwtape says to one of the boys, he says, “I think the best thing we can do is try and get our enemies to take the good things that God has given them, but to take them at the wrong time and in the wrong quantity.”[11] But “the messenger of Satan was given to me”—I don’t know, really. I just imagine Satan’s whispered insinuations: “Why did God allow you to have this, Paul? Paul, you’d be far more useful without this. Paul, why, if you’re a mighty apostle, would God allow this in your life?”—the insinuations of the Evil One, either to inflate us or to deflate us.

Incidentally, I just had a quick look at the book that was given to us. I love free stuff, being from Scotland. And the book that was just given about gospel leadership—there’s a section in there on the work of the Evil One. There’s seven D’s. I couldn’t remember them all, but they’re really good.

And so, the insinuations of the Evil One are straightforward. And so Paul does what we’d expect: He specifically and repeatedly asks God to remove this from him. You’re familiar with this. And he received the answer, which didn’t change the pain, but it changed the perspective.

There’s an old hymn that goes like this:

Ill that he blesses is our good,
And unblessed good is ill;
And all is right that seems most wrong
If it be his sweet will.[12]

“Three times I asked the Lord.” The providences of God are seldom self-interpreting, aren’t they? When you find yourself saying, “I wonder why this has happened,” it might not be about the “this” at all. Or “Why has this happened to me?” It might not be about “me” at all. The providences of God involve such a diversity of things. And here, in the economy of Paul’s life, you see it: “My grace is sufficient for you, for my [strength] is made perfect in weakness.” You might actually say, as Joseph to his brothers—you could say to the Evil One, “Satan, you intended this for evil, but God intended it for good.”[13]

And so he says in light of that, “Therefore, I will boast. I’m not going to do any of the crazy boasting that is fairly popular, but I will boast all the more gladly of my weaknesses so that the power of Christ may rest upon me.” Because, you see, God’s power is most apparent in weakness. The thorn put him in a place he would otherwise never have been.

Now, I don’t know when the light came on for Paul in relationship to this, but he realized what each of us somewhere, sooner rather than later, all being well, along the journey of our spiritual pilgrimage we need to make sure we understand: that since dependence is the objective, weakness is the advantage. If dependence is the objective, weakness is the advantage. It’s only when we say “Help me!” that we enter into the benefit of the support that is provided for us. It is only when we’re dissolved of our own self-animation that we’re animated by the energy of the Holy Spirit to enable us to do what we need to do.

I think we got the point, right? It was a long journey, I know, but here we are: “For the sake of Christ, then, I am content with weaknesses, insults, hardships, persecutions, and calamities.” Really? Really! Man, that’s a powerful statement. Content? “Godliness with contentment is great gain.”[14] Well, I guess if you are overwhelmed by the overflowing grace of God, we come close to this. But for me, I would say that this is an area of spiritual geography that many of us have only surveyed from a distance. We read this kind of thing, and our wives, or our children, or our church congregation, or wherever we are, are going to say, “Well, I hope so.”

I’ve noticed as I’ve now moved into another phase of life what was true of me as a much younger man—not something that I am proud of reflecting on, but I think it is true; namely, this: that “a young minister [in the gospel] is prone to try [and] attain by one jump the height which others have reached ‘by a long series of single steps in the labour of a quarter [or a half] of a century.’”[15] When you see those older guys and ladies and you aspire to know the grace that has enveloped them, don’t let’s imagine that they just dropped down like that. No, they could tell us of “calamities.” They could tell us of “hardships.” They could tell us of “insults” where God was fashioning them.

If dependence is the objective, weakness is the advantage. It’s only when we say ‘Help me!’ that we enter into the benefit of the support that is provided for us.

So it’s an area of spiritual geography that many of us have only surveyed from a distance. I would suggest that it is an ocean of grace in which we must admit that we’ve only paddled in the shallows. [Berridge’s] observation, I think, is helpful. He says, “A christian never falls asleep in the fire or in the [flood], but grows drowsy in the sunshine.”[16] So in trying to make sure that everything’s great, we might be doing ourselves and those around us a great disservice.

The Paradox of the Believer’s Weakness

So, let me end by saying these few things.

First of all, let us beware of the weakness of strength. Let us beware of the weakness of strength. It’s Nebuchadnezzar: “Is not this the great place that I have built!”[17] And then see him in your mind’s eye out in the field, behind his beautiful gardens, isolated and dehumanized.[18]

Remember how magnificent young Uzziah was as he set out on his journey. He was, by any standards, peculiarly gifted, a polymath of all sorts. He could build. He could execute leadership. He could do all manner of things. He was seventeen years old, and he was off to the races. But read to the end of the story. Where did he end up? He ended up in a cottage. And when the coach parties came past—anachronism—came past to see the splendor of everything, somebody on the coach said, “But where’s Uzziah now?” “Oh, no, he’s not in the big place. He’s in the little place.”[19] You remember what the Chronicler tells us about Uzziah? He was gloriously helped, until he became strong; and when he became strong, he grew proud to his own destruction.[20] Beware of the weakness of strength.

And let us embrace the strength of weakness. Pharaoh to Joseph: “I had a dream, and none of the guys can interpret it.”[21] You got the same thing with Nebuchadnezzar to Daniel: “I had a dream. None of my boys can do it.”[22] Remember what they say? “Oh, you’ve come to the right guy! I know all about that stuff. I’m very good with that.” No. “I cannot do it, but God…”[23] “I cannot do it, but God…”

It’s for this reason that he puts his treasure into old clay pots: so that the transcendent power might be seen to belong to God.[24] And even the Christians that we actually most admire for their godliness and for their influence and their gifts, they’re all just “jars of clay.”[25] The best of men and women are men and women at best—clay feet.

Have you ever considered the possibility that your discoveries and my discoveries of God’s grace are, in fact, limited to the extent that we’re trying to prove that we’re actually not really that weak at all? And until we give up that battle, then we’ll never really see victory in the battle.

In 1739… (I remember it well. You say, “I knew you were old, but I didn’t know you were that old.”) With this I will stop. In 1739, John Newton, whose correspondence was just voluminous, he writes to encourage a friend of his, a man by the name of Josiah Jones who lived between 1736 and 1806. Josiah Jones lived in Hull, which is on the Humber River in Yorkshire. This letter was actually the 12th of April 1759, not ’39. So he writes to encourage him, because the guy’s discouraged. He doesn’t think things are going particularly well in his ministry. He wishes that he was more like John Newton. After all, John Newton writes hymns. John Newton is a preacher. He had a big testimony. He was on a slave ship. Everybody knew John Newton’s—“Newton, Newton, Newton.” Right? Okay.

So he writes to him, and he says, “[Josiah,] I was a hardened, obstinate rebel; and now I am a slothful, unprofitable servant.” Don’t you love that?

But when I consider the unbounded mercy [and grace] of God,—the merits, [suffering], intercession, love, and power of Christ,—the condescension, variety, [and] extent, and unchangeableness of the Divine promises,—then, I say, no matter what I was, or what I am, provided only God has shown me the necessity of salvation, made me willing to be saved in his own way, and taught me to ask for those things which he has engaged to bestow. If these things are so, I say I have the truth and power of God on my side.[26]

“For,” God says to Paul, “my grace is sufficient for you.”

Father, thank you for your Word. Grant that we might hear your voice beyond any other voice—that the echo of the work of the Holy Spirit in our hearts will bring home to us a word of encouragement, a word of help, a word of rebuke, perhaps, as we think too highly of ourselves. Accomplish your purposes, Lord, because we’re about your business, and the whole world needs to hear of Jesus. And it’s an amazing thought that you’ve enlisted the likes of us to actually be involved in taking this story. Thank you for the privilege. Thank you for your overflowing grace. And we pray in Jesus’ name. Amen.

[1] Stuart Townend and Keith Getty, “Speak, O Lord” (2005).

[2] 2 Corinthians 10:1 (ESV).

[3] 2 Timothy 2:15 (KJV).

[4] 1 Corinthians 15:10 (paraphrased).

[5] 2 Corinthians 11:17 (MSG).

[6] Stuart Townend, “How Deep the Father’s Love for Us” (1995).

[7] 2 Corinthians 10:32 (ESV).

[8] 2 Corinthians 10:33 (ESV).

[9] 1 Corinthians 2:1, 3 (paraphrased).

[10] 2 Corinthians 12:7 (MSG).

[11] C. S. Lewis, The Screwtape Letters (1942), chap. 9.

[12] Frederick William Faber, “I Worship Thee, Sweet Will of God” (1849).

[13] Genesis 50:20 (paraphrased).

[14] 1 Timothy 6:6 (ESV).

[15] Iain H. Murray, David Martyn Lloyd-Jones, vol. 2, The Fight of Faith: 1939–1981 (Edinburgh: Banner of Truth, 1990), 458. The internal quotation comes from William M. Taylor, The Ministry of the Word (London: T. Nelson and Sons, 1876), 4; however, Murray’s quotation of Taylor differs slightly from Taylor’s original.

[16] Berridge to Samuel Wilks, Everton, August 16, 1774, in The Works of the Rev. John Berridge, ed. Richard Whittingham (London: Simpkin, Marshall, and Co., 1838), 396.

[17] Daniel 4:30 (paraphrased).

[18] See Daniel 4:31–33.

[19] See 2 Chronicles 26:21.

[20] See 2 Chronicles 26:15–16.

[21] Genesis 41:15 (paraphrased).

[22] Daniel 2:26 (paraphrased).

[23] Genesis 41:16; Daniel 2:27–28 (paraphrased).

[24] See 2 Corinthians 4:7.

[25] 2 Corinthians 4:7 (ESV).

[26] Newton to Josiah Jones, Liverpool, April 12, 1759, in Twenty-Five Letters Hitherto Unpublished, of the Rev. John Newton […] (Edinburgh: J. Johnstone, 1840), 38–39.